OLD Influenza
by Indigo Fireflight
Summary: This takes place shortly after the movie. While his healing factor is still compromised, Logan catches the flu and is forced to room with the sick Scott. This was started when I was 13, so don't mind the crappy first chapter. Chapter 2 coming soon.


Summary: This story takes place soon after the movie. While Logan's healing factor is still compromised, he catches the flu and is forced to room with the sick Scott.

Disclaimer: Sorry if some of the characters are out of character or are slightly stupid in the sense that they could easily use their powers at one moment and they don't. I am writing this while I am sick. Also I do not own any of the X-men.

It was a cool autumn morning, a short time since the X-Men's battle with Magneto. The leaves fell into a mosaic of beauty, the trees made a sound like the swishing of silken dresses, and everyone at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was enjoying the weather- everyone but Logan.

Logan's alarm clock never went off that morning. When he finally woke up, he was freezing cold. _What the heck happened to _heat_ in this school?_ When opened his eyes, however, he found himself in the middle of a predicament- his bedsheets were wrapped tightly around him and frozen over, trapping him! As he wriggled in his bed, his enhanced hearing picked up a faint click- but he couldn't make out what it was, and he payed little attention to it. Finally, he decided to try unsheathing his adamantium claws. The sheets didn't come off, but the claws weakened it enough. He used sheer muscle to escape from his prison.

Logan was steaming. He new _exactly_ who froze his bedsheets. He shoved the blankets off, which hit the floor with a clank. _When I get my hands on him..._

But before he could storm out of the room, he heard the click again, and this time he could place it- the sound of a camera. He sniffed the air. He smelled a familiar scent- the scent of his culprit.

"Bobby, you are a _dead man_!" he yelled.

Bobby could contain his laughter no more. He doubled over and burst into hysterics, one arm clutching his side. Logan saw the closet door jostle. It burst open and revealed Bobby.

"Game over, kid," Logan began to head in his direction, prepared to teach him a lesson.

"No way," Bobby said, and he created a slippery patch of ice directly in front of Logan. Before he knew what hit him, he was on the ground and Bobby hightailed it out of his very angry teacher's room. Logan quickly slipped on jeans and a t-shirt (he didn't want to give the school the pleasure of seeing their gym teacher in his boxers) and chased after the delinquent.

They ran down the stairs, past wild-eyed students and some of the very confused teachers. Bobby raced out the front door, Logan hot on his trail. He leaped over benches, ducked under low-hanging tree branches and flew across the lawn until he reached the back of the campus. He stole a glance behind him. Logan was nowhere to be found. With a relieved sigh, he continued to walk so that he could sneak in the back door. Suddenly, someone grabbed his wrist with an iron grip. He gulped. He didn't need to turn around; he already knew who it was.

"Kid, you are sooo busted," Logan informed him as he dragged him inside to meet Professor Xavier.

-

Rogue saw Logan sitting on a bench. She sat down beside him. "Hey. I heard about Bobby. How much trouble is he in?"

"Well, Charles was pretty mad. He told him that it was irresponsible and all that, and he gave him kitchen duty for a week." He raised his hand to his forehead and rubbed it. His head hurt, and he was very tired.

Rogue evidently noticed this. "Are you okay, Logan?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just didn't get enough sleep, I guess. I was up a little late last night."

"Maybe you should get some more sleep, you look beat."

Logan nodded. "Yeah, maybe you're right. My self-defense class starts in the afternoon anyway. I'll go." He got up and headed for the campus.

"Sleep well," Rogue called after him.

Scott was coming in his direction. He grinned at Logan. "I heard that Bobby got you pretty good this morning," he grinned.

"Oh ha ha," Logan said sarcastically. "Listen, you're free around 12, right?"

"It's lunch, of course I'm free. Why?"

"Well, I think that my alarm clock's broken, and I'm gonna go catch up on sleep, and no one else has time to come a little bit before, so before then could you pop by and wake me up?"

"Sure, Logan. Have a good sleep," he said and he walked away.

Logan finally went upstairs to his room, curled up in his bed and fell asleep.

-

A few hours later, a breeze whipped through the trees and blew itself- and some leaves- into Logan's window. The leaves found rest on his napping form sprawled out on the bed.

Logan groaned. "Geez, Scott, can't I get a _few_ more minutes?" He rolled over, but he couldn't find rest. Finally, he quit trying to sleep and sat up. As soon as he did, his head began to throb like it never did before. It felt like someone was inside his head, pounding and trying to escape. He felt really hot all over and his stomach ached. He wanted to lay down and go back to sleep, but he knew that he had to get up. Very slowly, he advanced into the hallway. As he passed Jean's room, his nose began to itch and he sneezed, which transferred the sensation to his throat and he launched into a coughing fit. It wasn't dry hacking like when you have something in your throat, but it was a deep, chesty cough. _What's wrong with me?_ he wondered.

Jean was looking for a report she had made and heard Logan. She stepped into the hallway. When he stopped coughing, Jean said, "Logan, you don't sound so good."

"Ya think?" He looked up. His face was beet red. "Jeanie, what's wrong with me?"

"Logan, I know it sounds crazy, but I think that you've caught the flu that's been going around."

"And how does that (cough) make any sense?"

"Well, your healing factor hasn't quite come back yet since you let Rogue touch you, and it seems that you've caught the flu since then. Come on, Logan, there's a room in the infirmary you can have until you're better." She led Logan to the tiny little room downstairs. It had a very tiny bathroom, and the two beds were the only things not doll-sized. There was no one else in the room- if it could be called a room. _It's more like a closet_, he thought.

He weakly slipped under the covers and Jean gave him some pills and a glass of water. When he downed the pills, Jean started to leave, then paused.

"Get some rest, Logan. If I catch you sneaking out of here..." she shook her head. Logan tried to answer, but he coughed instead. She left the room.

He settled back and waited for the pills to, which finally did, take effect. When he woke up, it was about 2:00, two hours later. He hoped that the school had gotten a substitute for him, and that they hadn't told the kids about him being sick.

While he fretted over this, he heard voices in the hallway:

"Jean, honestly, I'm fine, I've just got a little cold."

"Oh no you don't. You're not going out into the rest of the school with the flu. You're coming with me."

"But Jean-"

"No buts! Now come on, this room's available."

He saw the doorknob turn, and at that moment he smelled a familiar scent. _Oh no..._

His worst fears were confirmed. When the door opened, he saw Jean push in his new roommate- Scott!


End file.
